Burn Me to the Ground
by goctyudicbdkvhb175749674
Summary: Something, anything, even if it's pain, give it to me. Let me feel something, even hurt. Cure this numbness... because that's what my soul is, a barren, cold wasteland. Burn me to the ground, burn this empty void, and even through the screaming flames I can finally get to hear my heartbeat of emotion and see its color for the first time.
1. Predetermined Fate

**Hello everyone! *plot bunny bounces around* Excuse my plot bunny, it's been a bit hyper lately. Anyhoo, this is a story I'm desperate to write, and I really hope you like this. I've spent a while thinking about the idea, and I originally got the idea while listening and watching the music video to "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift. So thank-you Taylor Swift! I do quite enjoy her music, especially Bad Blood for some reason.**

 **I'm playing a little game with you guys called Guess the Character. For the first few chapters, I'm not going to reveal who I'm actually writing about, so you'll have to guess who I'm writing about based on context clues! Excluding clues about appearance and bey, of course, because that's too much of a dead giveaway to who the character is. If you'd like, leave your guess/answer in the reviews or PM me your answer, and the winner gets the prize of knowing they're good at using clues to figure out stuff otherwise known as inferring. If you know me well, you'll probably guess it.**

* * *

"Daddy? Where are we going?" a young boy asked as his father roughly took him by the arm dragging him out the front door. The young boy had a few bruises and looked a bit bony. He wore a loose t-shirt that hung onto him like a clothes hanger and baggy jeans that sagged on his small legs. He clutched a teddy bear in his right hand and a bey in the other, but he did't know why he held onto them.

"Somewhere," his father glared although the child didn't take the look his father gave him as a particularly threatening look because he had never seen his father smile. He had only seen a scowl on his father's face, so he didn't know what a smile looked like. His father practically chucked him into the back seat of the car in the dead of night before stepping in the car himself and drove off into the night.

The boy looked out the window leaning on the headrest with his eyes half closed and fiddled with his beyblade to keep himself awake. He let out a yawn because he had stayed up an hour past his bedtime, but his father didn't seem to notice the time. "Daddy, why are you keeping me up past my bedtime?"

"SHUT UP!" his father roared swerving the car to make a sharp turn. "You're going to make me crash!"

"Yes father," the boy didn't even flinch. His father yelled and shouted and screamed pretty often hardening him against it. He just continued to look out the window staring at the stars. A shooting star streaked across the sky, but he didn't make a wish on it. His father never told him about wishing stars or even wishes. He didn't even have anything to wish for because where his heart resided there laid an empty shell.

He was just there, just something for people to look at and not give a second glance to, and he couldn't feel a thing. Joy? He never heard of such a word. Sadness? He had never shed a single tear. Fear? He never read the stories or watched cartoons that spoke of the monster in the closet. Pain? Nope. No one ever taught him the concept of that. Anger, surprise, love, curiosity? Nope, nope, nope, and nope. His chest never got a funny feeling in it when around someone special. He had never had any feeling towards people, not even his father. He was bare of any emotion, any spark, anything, something, he didn't have it.

He was a just toddler. And because of that, he didn't know better because no one ever told him. What was right? What was wrong? He didn't know the difference. Why did people hug? Why did he hear his classmates cry? Why did his teacher sound so... er... he couldn't think of the word to describe her high, squeaky voice she used exclusively around children.

Who would care? No one. Not his father, not a soul would bother to talk to him, so he didn't talk to them back. He could hear his father mutter something under his breath, but he didn't take notice of the words that would hurt others. His father uttered out, "I have a freak for a son. I can't believe I have had to raise such rubbish for five years. He'll know better than to exist when I'm through with him because he's going to get what's coming to him..." He want on and on like that for the entire drive, but his son just blocked everything out. He didn't see it as an insult, just as words.

With a blank look plastered on his face like a stone wall, his features didn't move. He didn't do anything. He just sat there using the stars above and trees that looked more like blurs of dark green at the high driving speed as entertainment.

The boy nearly feel asleep, but then his father skidded his car to a stop making his passenger in the back jolt forward. Although the little one didn't close his eyes in terror when the force of the car flung him forward almost at the point of smashing his face into the seat in front.

"Get out," his father opened up the car door ordering his son to get out, but his son didn't know why he had to get out. Nevertheless, he obediently scrambled out, and his father smacked him across the sidewalk with a look of repulsion smeared on his twisted face.

"Why do you want me to get out?" he inquired.

"BECAUSE I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!" his father leaped in the car looking like someone in a bit of a frenzy to speed away. He slammed closed the driver's door, and he stomped hard on the gas pedal. With a deafening screech, the father drove away leaving his son, his flesh and blood, on the side of the rode who brought his teddy bear and bey up to his chest.

"F-father...?" his eyes widened a bit gripping tightly his things. He left... Why did he never want to see him again? He shook the thought away and began the trek to somewhere. He didn't know where, but he had to go somewhere. Suddenly, the lightning shot down from the sky illuminating the surrounding area for a split second, but as usual, he didn't jump or scream or duck under a random object. A faint drizzle began to pour, and puddles already started to pool.

He looked around to find himself in a city of some sorts. He had gotten so lost into his own thoughts that the change in scenery hadn't occurred to him. He had never seen such bright lights with his father locking him in the closet for most of the time. He never ventured outside home and school, so he had only seen a skyscraper in pictures of his father's computer wallpaper.

Glass windows adorned enormous steel structures, and shop signs lit up with neon colors he had never seen before. He wandered around in circles for a while confused and perplexed of his location before finally sitting down in the curb of the road cradling his teddy bear and beyblade in his arms. His father would come back, wouldn't he? Not that he cared. If he didn't come back, he would just go somewhere else and maybe steal leftover food on outdoor dining tables when no one looked.

He sat there for hours and hours until the sun peaked from behind the clouds before quickly hiding behind the clouds again. His eyes felt red and puffy, and he could feel his eyelids grow heavy. He could use some sleep, but where would he? Several hours of raining soaked his clothes and hair through and through, and he conveniently sat in the middle of a dent in the ground allowing for a puddle to from where he sat.

Resting his head on his knees, he eventually decided to stand up and find somewhere to stay tugging his possessions he carried with him last night behind him. He dawdled around for a long period of time, and everyone gave him odd looks. He knew why they looked at him. They all wondered: Which parent in their right mind let their five-year-old run amuck in the city all by himself? He knew what the gaping looks on people's faces meant. His father sometimes had that look, so he knew. And he knew not to ask any questions or talk to anyone.

"D-daddy...?" he whispered in a voice so imperceptible that the adults didn't hear him, and off he went. He didn't know that he would fall into the wrong hands. He didn't know of where he would land himself in eleven years, on the wanted list. And he didn't know that the next building he stepped into would change his fate forever.

He determined that he would tread into a tower so tall that he couldn't see the roof of it, and he leaped into a revolving door. Some force pulled on him to go into an elevator, and he pressed the button that would send him up. He sprung into the confined box, and with a ding, the sliding door closed with a smooth glide. He could feel his stomach lurch as the elevator skyrocketed into the air, and a series of foreign sensation tingled in him.

With another beep, the contraption abruptly ceased to move, and the boy headed out. He faced someone with midnight purple hair neatly cut up to his shoulders wearing a white suit. He had that sadistic, enjoyment of others suffering smile on his face. His grin seemed so unnatural, so daunting, that he would drive most people away. But the small boy wasn't most people and just stood there. He didn't feel a drop of fear, and his words didn't even stutter, "Who are you?"

The man in the crisp suit was taken back by the emotionless, monotone, virtually robotic sound that rang the room, and the other knew when the man in the suit gasped in surprise. "Oh, so who are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" the kid in the t-shirt with too much slack blinked and yawned in boredom.

"Would you be interested in this company? We are a bit short on employees, as most scramble away from me in terror the moment they set foot in here," the man with the violet hair explained.

"Possibly."

"Intriguing..." the porcelain skin-toned scratched his chin a bit with a blossoming smirk on his lips. "How about I set you up with an interview?"

"How?" the boy asked.

"Like this!" the suited stranger whipped out a dagger and threw it across the room with deadly accurate aim towards the boy, but the boy, out of a sudden attempt to stay alive, shot out a column of lilac flame disintegrating the knife to pieces of charred metal that smoked a bit. The boy still stood there not twitching or showing any signs of backing down not even in shock of his abilities.

"Well, well, very good," the person carrying out the "interview" clapped his hands in approval. "Please go to the basement where you will find my assistant." The boy nodded, and he stepped into the elevator. Out of earshot of anyone, the person in the fancy white outfit gave out an earsplitting burst of laughter. He managed to settle himself down before proclaiming, "Yes! I have found you! I have found someone I thought I would never meet if I had immortality!" his smirk grin dark as he clasped his hands together. "Serve me well my half-angel... or else..."

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 **Um... *awkward silence sounds* Yeah, I hope you enjoyed this, and please read and review and share what you think. The sci-ci element of the story will present itself later.**


	2. The First Spark is Lit

**I'm back! This chapter takes place eleven years after the first chapter, and I know what you're thinking: Gocty! Why such a HUGE time gap?! Well, you'll understand why once you start reading. Well, I'll reveal who I'm writing about... Next chapter! I know, I'm evil, but I want to give everyone a chance to guess. Plus, I'm evil, and I know I've already mentioned that. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!**

* * *

The room had steel walls almost like in a factory. It had a metal floor, metal walls, and a metal door. It didn't have any windows or even a light bulb, and a candle on a small, high, wooden shelf served as the only source of light. A bed sat in a covert-seeming corner of the room as the only thing remotely comfortable there, and even then, the bed had no blankets or pillows and smelled like someone didn't wash it for months.

Posters of heavy metal and alternative rock bands ornamented every surface, even the ground, and while the inhabitant of the room bothered to tape up a few of the posters, the other posters laid dispersed on the floor and bed. The person in the room perched in the middle of the bare mattress looking around the room in suspicion. His black converse shoes stood by the doorway, and he debated whether to snatch them from the floor.

With no shoes, he had grey socks on his feet. He wore a t-shirt the color of hoary grey from the combination of the set color he bought the shirt in and exposure to explosives over the years, and ebony shorts suited him well. He always copiously layered heavy coats of eyeliner and eye-shadow creating a smoky eye effect on his eyelids. He collapsed into the stiff bedding gazing at his shoes still next to the door, and he teetered his eyes towards the metal ceiling.

"To go, or not to go?" he rotated himself to face his shoes then to examine the small patches of rust on the floor. At the sight of the rust, droplets of sweat slid down his forehead, and his lips pursed in disapproval. Suddenly, his phone next to him buzzed, and he seized his iPhone 5s to read the text. He read, "Go to the main room. NOW!" He grumbled, and his eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

He texted back, "I'm coming, sir." He placed his phone in his pocket, and he leaped off the bed. He accidentally landed on a spot of rust, and he tumbled down to the floor. A noisy crash sounded, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around his foot. He peeled back his sock revealing irritated, red skin that had a blister and looked burned.

A hushed wail lingered in the back of his throat, and he desperately clawed his way to the doorknob and swung open the thin metal door. He laced on his shoes, and he supported his weight on the tile wall of the hallway. He limped and stumbled along the hall, and his vision grew hazy and blurred with sweat. He knew that he couldn't get to the hospital wing in time, and he rapidly texted out, "Touched rust. Help." And as soon as he pressed send, he blacked out when his eyelids shut closed. His limbs sprawled on the floor, and he dropped his phone.

* * *

He stirred around a bit in a cocoon of cerulean-blue blankets. His eyes shuddered for a bit, and he sluggishly rubbed his head. His phone rested on the wooden table next to him, but when he attempted to grab it, a column of pain shot up his spine. "Ah!" he winced, and he fell back into bed. He mumbled out a few curses and felt himself drift from consciousness.

"You better wake soon," a voice from behind the curtain sounded. The beige curtain circled around the bed for privacy, and a pallid hand swung the curtain aside revealing a violet-haired man. He appearance hadn't changed a bit from eleven years ago still wearing the same wrinkle-free, white suit, and whenever he smiled, you could feel another presence in the room almost as if he brought forth some sort of ghost.

The man had a graceful gait shoving the curtain aside with one big pull. His grin spread to an unreasonably far corner of his face, and he snatched the shirt of the groggy one in bed, "Listen you, you will obey my command of waking up, do you understand?"

"Yes sir, Pluto," a low-volume growl escaped from his lips.

"Good," Pluto released his shirt and exited the hospital wing. "Please meet me in the main room as my text instructed. And try to be a bit more respectful. I would appreciate you not hissing or growling at me every two seconds."

"Yes sir," he murmured. He spat on the floor Pluto walked on and gritted his teeth. His stupid boss. He could hear Pluto slam the door shut, and with that, he stretched a bit and yawned. How long did he sleep for...? He peered outside the room's window to find the sun still rising, so he probably didn't pass out for long. He scratched an odd itch on his head, most likely the heat of the pillows and blanket's doing, and he swung his legs over the bed.

He glanced down at his shirt now seaming in sweat from the warmth of the bed that he would gladly stay in all day. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed towards the elevator. He would have to go to the locker room before meeting with Pluto, so that's where he rode the elevator to.

With faint ding, the elevator descended to seven floors below the skyscraper's hospital unit, and he glided out. His stride almost seemed like he floated with his feet barely touching the ground before they swept back up. The locker room door had a bulky metal door frame with even heavier doors. It had two small windows on each of the double doors, but you couldn't really see through them because they went through years of enraged "agents" smacking on the glass as a way to manage anger and leaving cracks and chipping away some of the outer layer of glass.

Despite the door's weight, he pushed it open with ease and continued on to his locker numbered 99 all the way at the back of the locker room. The back had a stench of gym socks and rotting pizza from the others, and he did not appreciate this. He unlocked his locker specially painted so that he wouldn't touch any rust although you couldn't say the same for his "room."

He pulled out his vanilla-scented air freshener and perfume and sprayed the surrounding area in an attempt to make it smell at least decent. It wouldn't prove much use as the sweat overpowered any endeavor to lessen the odor, but at least his nose could get a break from sniffing such foul air.

Not speaking to anyone or making eye-contact with the others, he pulled up fishnet tights he wore for good luck under his shorts. Then he changed his shirt from an ashen-colored one to one with no sleeves or collar several shades darker and had the picture of a skull with wings with a hue comparable to charcoal taking up most of the front's surface area. The shirt also sported flames in the background.

He strapped a choker necklace on as well as silver bracelets on either side of his wrists. He finally completed dressing out when he slipped on black finger-less gloves. "That should do it," he nodded in satisfaction and headed out to once again, and the elevator dipped onto ground level.

"I am here, as you requested," he sauntered into the main room, otherwise known as the lobby. A circular glass desk the size of a couch sat in front of the back wall with a fake plant here and there. Other than that, the lobby only boasted a floor tinted cream polished to perfection and buff walls. Prodigious glass windows let the sunlight of that particular perfect day in, and he felt rays of sun on his back.

Pluto looked up from his mini-globe on the desk, and he grinned from ear to ear with his usual fiendish smile. He clasped his hands together on the table, "Hello, it's nice to see you, have a seat." The other in the room continued to stand. "Well, have a seat, will you?! It would be rude to not accept my invitation to sit!" Pluto pounded his fist on the table.

"Where's the seat?" he questioned.

"Fine, fine, stand, I just need you to listen," Pluto sneered.

"So what's the mission this time?" he rammed his fists onto the table leaning dangerously close.

"Mind your manners, please," Pluto shoved him away. "I have plans you need to view. They're in building 5567 in the city next door, the compound we discussed last meeting. Try not to get detected, the government will arrest anyone trespassing. They might even sentence you to twenty years in prison if you're caught stealing their plans."

"And what are these _plans_ for?" he glared. "And what if I do get caught?"

"These plans are none of your concern you imbosol! And if you do get caught, break out of prison! There's no use in trying to clear you name, you're on the wanted list anyway, so I'd assume you'd be more concerned with your freedom than with that charges you'd get for breaking out of prison!" Pluto quickly recomposed himself and tossed his agent a flash drive. "Download the plans on this flash drive, and bring your computer for hacking. Careful, there's plenty of rust among the metal in where you're heading. There will be a helicopter waiting for you on the roof."

"I understand," he shuffled out. He exited the building after obtaining his computer. "Good day to you."

"And bad day to you," Pluto hissed with no one around.

* * *

He stepped out of the helicopter on the roof of building 5567. The air had a dead tinge. No wind, just clear blue sky, brought on unbearable mute, and he hooked his computer up to a satellite dish and connected to the building's wi-fi and any other signals it released. He hacked through loopholes in the firewall pressing enter on his computer. BEEP! BEEP BEEP! Deafening blares screeched from the building as it perforated the quiet.

He triggered the alarm system, perfect. He disconnected his computer and slammed open the door waltzing right on in rushing down pelting on the stairs normally used for emergency evacuation. Employees leafed by him, and he could almost pity their cowardliness. Almost. Some even tried to push the invader, aka him, down the stairs, but he simply stepped aside sending whoever dared to knock him down hurtling into the wall.

"Idiots," he didn't hesitate to spit out a derision, and in an unperturbed manner, he punched someone threatening to stab him with their pen for breaking in. "What a miserable display of aggression," he kicked the unconscious man aside stepping on his back in an act of disrespect.

He snatched the passed out man's ID card from his back pocket for later use and settled to enter the thirteenth floor using the information on the ID card to log onto a computer, and he typed. He plugged the flash drive into the computer, but suddenly, a crash of computers and other knickknacks sounded. He swerved around although he did too little too late.

Someone tapped his neck with a rusted metal pen, and his knees suddenly faltered. He fell to the ground, and a figure dragged him across the floor snapping handcuffs on him. The figure's breath sounded mechanic, and whenever they moved, a robotic click resonated. Their voice sounded vaguely like they breathed through a gas mask, and the person smirked, "Gotcha."

* * *

His eyes flickered open. He fainted for the second time today, one time next to his own room and now when someone brushed something against his neck. He realized the burn on his neck. It was bright red with pealing skin. He grunted, not in pain, but in vexation. His breathing chocked in his chest when he eyed the wall. He sat in a rusty, wet cell. He could hear water dripping in the background, and he found himself bound to a wooden chair with leather straps.

His sharp ears picked up heavy footsteps that sounded machine-like, "Who's here? It'd be _lovely_ to see you," he rolled his eyes. He voice didn't drip in apprehension, just sarcasm. Although this situation would admittedly scare most to passing out, again.

"Right here," someone opened the door in a corner of the room. The person had cinnamon-tinted skin and dark umber hair. They wore a black fedora hat, a black turtleneck sweater, a tawny trench coat extending to their knees, and baggy blue jeans. They raised their gloved hand in indication of their location, "Tell me, were you about to steal some data?"

"And what if I say yes?" he glared.

"You'll be sentenced to twenty years in prison," they replied. They took a flash drive out of their pocket, "Nice attempt, though. You got to a 70% data download in our plans. I wish you luck in trying to escape because this cell is covered in your one weakness, and the hallways have a decent amount of rust in them, too, with plenty to make you faint before you even see the outside light. I've been trying to catch you for six months, and I don't plan on letting you go. You've been on the wanted list since you were thirteen, after all. You're in high demand for people like bounty hunters and people working for the government."

He took a closer look at the person in front of him to see that they wore a Phantom of the Opera style mask on the left side of their face, "Took you stupid people long enough to figure out my weakness being rust, what took you so long, your mask blinding you from something obvious?" he mocked.

"This is embarrassing. Your words are run-on sentences, so try breaking them up with some pauses and periods. Try coordinating conjunctions for once," they huffed out.

"What does this have to do with anything? You're dodging the actual subject," he hissed.

"Just seeing if you have your priorities straight. I've noticed that you have a pretty bad record of how loyal you are to the organization you work for. I'm asking if you're interested in working for us," the person chuckled in glee.

"For what in return?" his eyes narrowed.

"I knew you would say that," they smacked him on the head just to aggravate him. "If you succeed, you get your freedom and don't have to serve your prison sentence. If you fail, you'll be locked away for twenty years with no parole."

"Sounds interesting," he lifted an eyebrow.

"You have ten minutes to decide to accept the deal or not, and I'll be watching you all the way," they leaned against the wall to stare at him.

"Thanks for the pressure," he nodded.

"Your welcome, so what's your answer?" they readied their gun to prepare to shoot in case of an abscond attempt pointing it at his head. "Don't worry. I won't kill you unless you try to escape."

"Yeah, thanks," he grunted.

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 **So... how do you think? As my first attempt at a sci-fi fanfiction, please tell me how to improve it if you come up with a suggestion. Please read, review, and tell me what you think! Who do you think the mystery person is? Can you guess any future events? Any plot holes? Let me know!**


	3. Gunpowder

**Hello world! I'm back with another chapter! Sorry it's taking so long to update. I have the basic plot, but I tend to have a hard time getting my ideas down on paper. Plus my cousins are over, and one of them has violent tendencies. The violent one is banging on my door at the moment while I try to edit this chapter, and my other cousin, brother, and I are hiding out in my room. It took us a while to regain control of my room, and MY VIOLENT COUSIN LOOKED THROUGH MY PRIVATE NOTEBOOK IN WHICH I DRAW ROMANTIC SCENES IN! I'M SO ANGRY! Oh well, and like I said, I'll reveal who I'm writing about this chapter. I know you all wanna find out. Seriously, if you know me well you will know who I'm writing about because they're practically all I write about.**

 **So the character I'm writing about is... *drum roll***

 **...**

 ***suspense builds* Dynamis! You didn't see that coming...? He's my profile picture! I'm freaking obsessed with him! Hopefully, this doesn't put any non-Dynamis fans off reading because I have a feeling it might.** **Well, enough of my rambling, let's get on with the story!**

* * *

"You have two minutes left to decide," the figure pointing the gun at him bluntly stated.

"Well, you building the suspense is not helping!" Dynamis hissed.

"My lips are sealed for the next to minutes," the figure rolled their eyes. They motioned their fingers to run over their lips, signalling their silence and slight sarcasm.

"Fine, I'll join you, but Pluto's gonna be wondering where I'm off to," Dynamis glared. "For my freedom. Only."

"Good decision, but you really have no idea what you're being dragged into," the person clicked their gun in indication of activating the safety catch. "Although, I recommend you watch your mouth as I can turn off the safety catch and shoot you before you can even say the word 'Fire.' I still have the right to attack you."

"If you do have the right to attack me, then who are you?" Dynamis could feel the person unbuckle the latches that held him in his chair. He rubbed his now freed but still sore wrists and gazed at whomever stood in front of them. He stood up.

"Who, you ask?" his captor questioned. "Do you really wanna know?"

"For the convenience of being able to address you properly, then yes, I do," Dynamis replied.

"I'm not so sure, you're just going to run when you see my face," their voice suddenly lost itself to the air. Their words hitched in their throat, and the person cleared their throat with a mechanical cough. The cough sounded like a car's low grumble, and Dynamis couldn't help but oddly eye the person. Why did they wear a mask? Normal people, not even people that work for the government or whatever normally do that.

"Why do you wear a mask?" Dynamis asked. This time he sounded a bit more aggravated.

"It's to... hide something, so to speak," the person looked away. "We should get a move on, careful, the wrong step could take you to the hospital."

"You're still not answering my question," Dynamis didn't nudge out of his position. "Tell me, or I won't move a millimeter."

"Technically, you're always moving with the earth's rotation and all-" the person tried to stall fessing up, but Dynamis interrupted.

"I'm not following you until you tell me why you wear that thing," Dynamis crossed his arms, and he curled his toes and stood perfectly still. He wasn't ready to move.

"You might run away screaming in terror," the individual cautioned.

"It takes a lot for me to run away in terror," Dynamis retorted.

"If scream, you owe my twenty bucks," the figure reached to take off their hat only to slow the removing of the mask. The mask finally came off, and although Dynamis couldn't see very well through the darkness, he blinked as if in confusion. He had never seen something like this before...

"What the...?" Dynamis anime sweat-dropped. "Why do you have metal mask on, as another measure to hide your face?"

"This is my face!" the figure whirled around in anger. They clenched their fists, "Half of my body is a robot! Half my face and brain are bionic parts, the left side, and my left arm and left leg are machines! There, happy?!"

"Not really, but to be fair, I must ask you, what is it like to be happy? Or sad? Or do you not know because you're half metal," Dynamis asked. He didn't sound all that curious, though, and he probably questioned just to annoy the half robot.

"Of course I know what being happy and sad are like! Just because I'm a cyborg doesn't mean that I'm not half human, holy bacon, the reports weren't kidding, you really are an a**hole! You know that?!"

"If you are implying that, then that's the one thing we can both agree on, I see," Dynamis nodded his head.

"You're not guilty at all, are you," the cyborg spat in Dynamis' direction. They crossed their arms and turned away. Their eyebrow twitched, and a strong robotic leg nearly kicked over his chair if they didn't restrain their leg.

"So, what's your name?" Dynamis asked trying once again to fish out the android's name.

"Just call me Brook," a sigh sounded. "If you ever feel the need to address me formally, like at a meeting, call me Ms. B."

"Does your last name start with a B as well?" Dynamis lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't have one!" Brook might have flipped a table if the room had one. "Get over it," she barked. "Now then," she took several deep, machine-like breaths to calm herself and stomped out. "Follow me."

Dynamis stood up and glided behind Brook. "Where are you taking me?"

"Again with the questions! Come, I'll explain everything," Brook waved her hand to signal to Dynamis to trail behind, which he did, and Brook slipped back on her mask.

They spiraled around several hallways, and Dynamis eye's widened as he saw the rusty walls. His head already started to spin, and dizziness started to take over. He thought he would faint, again, but then, Brook clicked open a door. They stepped into a carpeted hallway with plaster walls. He sighed in relief as the rust disappeared.

"Getting worried?" Brook asked. "About the rust?"

"W-what?! No!" Dynamis shoved his hands in his pockets storming off in front of Brook.

"If you say so," Brook marched in front of Dynamis. "Please follow me. You don't know where you're going." Dynamis stopped for a few seconds then continued, and he hesitantly followed Brook. What Brook said was true, although he didn't want to admit it.

They both headed through a skyscraper of some sort with soaring glass arches and mindbogglingly large windows. Someone had polished all the windows to the point that you could barely see them, much like the building Pluto owned, but rather than installing regular light bulbs like Pluto, a gentle glow radiated from the walls.

The hallway had many twists and turns, but Brook somehow knew her way. Secretly, Dynamis found himself lucky that he obeyed Brook's command of following her, but he would probably never say that. Others passing by eyed him down, and they stared at him with their hard, glaring, and unforgiving eyes. Dynamis didn't care.

He just trailed behind Brook to a large room they entered through sliding glass doors. The room was circular and in the middle of the skyscraper. From the outside, it looked like a little sphere bulging from the otherwise rectangular building. The room had a desk that looked like fiberglass, and several holograms of maps of all colors, shapes and sizes floated around the desk.

Behind the desk stood a man with fiery-red hair, little facial hair, and wearing a suit that had a red-brown outer coat. He wore a tie with "WBBA" written on it, and he had a gentle, slightly welcoming smile on his face. Dynamis just narrowed his eyes saying in a brusque voice, "And you are Brook's boss, I'm assuming?"

"Brook?" the red-haired man asked. "Blossom, why is he calling you Brook?"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she roared quickly, and an anime tick-mark appeared on her head. "WE HAVE DISCUSSED THAT 357 TIMES! AND YES! I COUNTED, RYO!"

"But Blossom, why not?" Ryo blinked, slightly perplexed.

"Because Blossom is a lame name!" Brook marched to a corner of the room. "And please, for the 359th time, counting the two times I just requested for you to call me Brook, don't call me Blossom." Brook crossed her arms in distaste, and Dynamis just looked on. He didn't say anything.

"Blossom is a beautiful name," Ryo tried to explain.

"Well, I'm not exactly the essence of all things beautiful, and I would prefer to remain that way," Brook but her lip.

"Very well then," Ryo sat back down in his chair. He supported his chin on his hand, and he took an uneasy look at Dynamis, "Brook, then, are you sure we can... trust... him?" Ryo pointed at Dynamis.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dynamis raised an eyebrow.

"You're a wanted criminal. You already have 58 counts of attempted hacking, and you succeeded 54 times," Ryo turned to Brook. "Are you sure you can keep an eye on him, Brook?"

"He's valuable, that's for sure, and accordingly to my research, he's just fallen into the wrong crowd," Brook stated.

"I can see that whole 'falling into the wrong crowd part,'" Ryo swallowed down a shout. "Well then, Dynamis, please put this on." Ryo presented a choker necklace similar to the one he wore at the moment.

"What is it?" Dynamis refused the offer of the new choker.

"It'll track you and make you you don't stir up any trouble with your time with us," Ryo tossed the necklace to Dynamis. "Our trust wears thin on you."

"Fine, anything to get out of prison," Dynamis slipped his old choker necklace off and put the new one on. It felt exactly like his old one. "So what am I going to do here, assuming you're not lying to me about the deal of freeing me."

"First, we have a thorough look if you have any weapons on you," Ryo snapped his fingers, and two security guards waltzed in out of nowhere. They patted Dynamis down, but Dynamis swatted them away like pesky flies. He slapped the first guard in the face and punched the other.

"You will not invade my privacy," Dynamis whipped out his launcher and Jade Jupiter.

"Oh, is this how you wanna play?" Brook attached her bey, Galaxy Cygnus, to her launcher, as well. Ryo did the same with his Burn Fire Blaze. Dynamis glared hard at Ryo and Brook, and the two did the same.

"One hit from my bey and your skull is history," Dynamis growled.

"One hit from my bey and your stubbornness is history," Brook raised her launcher to get a better aim for Dynamis. "Besides, only half of my skull will be history. If you haven't forgotten, I'm half metal."

"My Jupiter can break your metal in 0.3 seconds," Dynamis threatened.

"Cut, not break, you either melt, dent, or cut metal, but not break, that's specifically reserved for non-metals, like your bones," Brook prepared to pull the ripcord. "Prepare to get sent to the hospital."

"I've already been there, and I'd prefer not to return," Dynamis readied to pull the ripcord as well. Stale silence settled in, and neither spoke a word. They just aimed at each other, ready to fire at any trigger.

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 **GUYS! GUYS! HUGE, HUGE, HUGE NEWS! CAN YOU GUESS?! I JUST FOUND OUT A FEW MINUTES AGO AT THE TIME OF TYPING THIS CHAPTER! *composes myself* As of June 26, 2015, same sex marriage is now legal in the United States! *does a happy dance* It's about time America! (the country where I live)**

 **Also, one more thing before I let you all go. I have a poll on my profile about which story idea is the most interesting to you, so I'm asking you to vote. You don't have to, it's just an optional request. Bye for now, my dear readers, and have a nice day!**


	4. Moonlight Sonata

**Okay, so I have a plan for this story! I plan (try) to update every Saturday, so keep a heads up for that. Now onto the story! Any tips for this fanfic? If you do, please leave them in the comments, please.**

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"Put down your beyblade," Brook glared.

"Not until you do," Dynamis responded. They both nodded to set down their launchers along with Ryo. Dynamis, Brook, and Ryo dropped their launchers and beys to the floor to emphasize that they wouldn't attack, and Brook dropped her gun, as well.

"Now then, let's sit down and have a conversation like normal people," Ryo sat down at his desk. He crossed his arms and leaned back. Dynamis pushed aside his launcher with his foot, and he stepped forward. Brook did the same. The three stood/sat there. The room had an atmosphere of easily shattered quietude, but it was still tense. Anyone could pick up their launcher or gun or whatever and attack.

Ryo brought his hand up to his chest in a subconscious attempt to protect his heart from any debris. Anyone, especially Dynamis, could've chucked a random object at anyone's organs, and he could rip their intestines out. Dynamis thought of doing that but decided to resist the urge because of the risk of arrest, and no matter how irate he felt, he wouldn't have an excuse in court for knocking out this random person.

Brook paced back and forth around the room, and the clang from her metal joints just prevented the room from becoming dry silence. "So then, I recon, Ryo, do you mind telling him what's going on?"

"Yes, yes," Ryo pulled out dozens of beige files on his fiberglass desk, and he opened one of them. The folder was stuffed to the brim with papers of all sizes and colors. Ryo took out one of the papers showing the logo of the company Dynamis worked for: Hades Inc. The logo had a silhouette of the three-headed dog, Cerberus.

"What does Hades Inc. have to do with this?" Dynamis lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm requesting for you to work undercover there, we're suspicious of Hades Inc. and it's owner, Pluto, but we don't have sufficient evidence to file a case against them," Ryo tapped on the file. "Hades Inc. somewhat trusts you, making you a good candidate for spying there. Succeed, and you can just return to your life, and we will clear your records. Fail, and-" Ryo tried to elucidate, but Dynamis interrupted.

"Yes, yes, I know, I'll get a twenty year prison sentence!" Dynamis snapped. He banged his fists on the table, and a loud clang sounded.

"No need to be rude," Brook elbowed Dynamis. Dynamis elbowed Brook back, and they both scowled at each other. They leaned in dangerously close to each other, and they nearly touched foreheads. The two gazed in a threatening way at each other growling.

"Oh, am I being rude?" Dynamis responded with a deep growl latched in his windpipe.

"Now, now, it's getting a bit late. How about you two calm down and Brook, can you please show Dynamis to his room?" Ryo intervened. He motioned with his hands for them to go, and they did after picking up their beys, launchers, and Brook's firearm. Brook and Dynamis walked side by side down the long, confusing glass hallways of the complex. They took a glass elevator that allowed them to see the floors as they shot up to the 36th.

The ride was smooth and silent, and they both stood very still. They could only hear each other's breathing and the faint, distant grumble of the machine that propelled the elevator cart up. A surprising amount of time had passed as from the clear windows of the elevator and building, the sky had a smoldering crimson mixed with an apricot shade of orange. The sun had halfway set below the horizon, and the evening light tinted glass with a fuzzy, blazing color.

Midway up, Brook finally spoke, "Kid, I have a question, why are you so eager to join us?" She crossed her arms and pressed herself against the wall. She tipped her hat over her face to hide it and grumbled.

"Don't call me kid, or I might snap your circuits," Dynamis turned away. He faced away from Brook crossing his arms himself almost guarding him from any backlash. "I have my reasons, and the only thing that convinced me to join Hades Inc. was the paycheck."

"Ha, yeah right, I believe you have another reason," Brook tipped her hat back into its proper position. She tapped her left foot with the rhythm of metal against metal. "And about cutting my circuits, I can replace them, it's happened before. Besides, I can't trust you, your info registered on our database says that you shouldn't even have this chance to be free."

"You're making it sound like working for you idiots is a good thing," Dynamis narrowed his eyes from his corner of the elevator. He kicked his foot on the glass wall hoping to make a dent but no luck.

"We're not idiots, you're the fool," Brook responded.

"Oh, and how are you so sure?" Dynamis slanted his head for it to face the ground, and the shadows covered his eyes. "That I'm the fool, you could be one, I could be one, your boss definitely is-"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Brook delivered an uppercut motion to Dynamis' stomach sending him hurtling towards the other wall. "Don't you dare call Ryo an idiot...!" She pressed her gun against the side of his head. Dynamis already had a bleeding nose from the stumble of Brook's blow, and he didn't plan to get another one.

"Temperamental," Dynamis nudged the gun away from his head. "I would appreciate you to not blast my brain to bits." Brook shoved her gun next to Dynamis, again, and Dynamis snapped his fingers. A pillar of light purple flames flared from his fingers forcing Brook to stumble back.

"You!" Brook shot, but Dynamis dodged the bullet. The bullet lodged itself in the glass cratered in a dent and surrounded by cracks. Dynamis flicked his hand, and a spark of purple fire knocked Brook's gun out of her hand.

Brook garnered a thin metal pole from her weapon storage unit built in her machine half on her back. She swung the pole towards Dynamis, but Dynamis countered with a whip-like flame conjured from his hands.

The elevator let out a ding indicating they reached their desired floor, and the door slid open. Brook leaped out, and Dynamis followed. Her metal pole clashed against Dynamis' whip. Dynamis dashed along the potted plants and drink and food stained carpets and rugs. While attempting to evade the pole, Dynamis accidentally knocked over and broke a flowerpot.

"You know, you're gonna have to pay for that," Brook sprung to Dynamis aiming her pole to him.

"Well, I'm not going to pay if I'm dead," Dynamis grabbed hold of the pole and attempted to knock it from Brook. He used his flames to heat the pole into a goop of liquid metal that spilled on the floor. Brook had to let go because her human half would've burned under the immense heat, and she could already feel a blister forming on her finger.

"How are you doing this?!" Brook let out a yelp of surprise. "The fire, I mean."

"Do I look like I know, because-" suddenly, before Dynamis had a chance to finish, Dynamis' knees buckled sending him to the floor. Brook scrunched her face in confusion before noticing a piece of un-melted pole had a spot of rust on it. She sighed and picked up her now unless pole and dragged Dynamis by the shirt to room labeled 2447, her shared room with her partner. All agents here shared rooms, and Ryo assigned Dynamis to her room since she had an extra bunk bed, and they could keep an eye on him.

She slid in her ID card to open the heavy, metal, bullet-proof door and stepped in. Her room had a view of the city dotted with the thin lines of skyscrapers from below. The building she was in stuck out among the rest in height and in the number of windows. Red light bled in followed by violet a little while later, then by dark blue, and finally indigo. She sighed and plopped Dynamis down on the bottom bunk bed with red covers and a fluffed pillow.

She sat down in a rolling chair, and she looking out into the skyline. The janitor would be muttering curses after her when he saw the mess in the hallway, oh well. She couldn't do anything about that now.

Just as the stars poked out, the door clicked open. "Hey Rago," Brook waved her hand while still facing the view. She saw Rago's reflection in the glass.

"Hey Brook, how was-" just as Rago was about to ask Brook how her day had been, he found a form tucked under the sheets of the bottom bunk bed they never used. "Who's... that...?" He lifted the blanket to see someone he founded on wanted posters left and right, "AH! What is **_HE_** doing in our room?!" Rago kicked Dynamis off the bed. "There's a wanted criminal in here!"

"I know, we have mission with him, remember?" Brook reminded.

"Why put him in... here?" Rago's blood-red eyes widened. He could barely stand to touch Dynamis with the tip of his foot, much less pick him up and put him back into the bed. After all, he was appalled by the very sight of someone who had stolen hundreds millions of Yens worth of data and government plans.

"Because, we have to keep an eye on him. Put him back in the bloody bed, will you?" Brook requested.

"You do it, I'm not touching him," Rago turned away.

Suddenly, a low groan sounded. Dynamis fluttered open his eyes. He laid on the floor on his side tangled within a red blanket. He saw Brook sitting at a chair, someone with raven-black hair and threatening red eyes staring at him, and himself in an unfamiliar room. "Where am I?" he struggled to get up and swung his legs on the bed.

"In our room," Brook answered his question while still looking out the window.

"Who are you?" Dynamis eyed the strange black-haired person that looked about his age.

"Well, I'm not your friend, that's for sure," Rago stiffened. He bit his tongue to avoid screaming out anything vulgar in front of Brook and Dynamis.

"So that's a mutual agreement, then," Dynamis nodded. Dynamis stood up to attempt to open the door, but he found it locked. "Someone have the key?"

"We do, but we're not giving it to you, you're still under close observation," Brook took out her ID card.

"Give me that!" Dynamis swiped out his hand to snatch ID card, but Brook jabbed it away.

"Oh no, we're not giving you an ID card quite yet," Brook, instead of shoving her ID back in her pocket, tilted open the massive window and held her ID card to stick out of the window. After using electricity from her robot fingertips to super heat the card and melt it, she tossed the ID out of the window. "Don't worry, we're not trapped, the door has facial recognition programs as well, Rago?" Rago gave Brook his card which she burned and chucked out the window.

Brook latched close the window, and she spat in a request on the phone for another copy of her and Rago's IDs to be available to them by tomorrow morning, "Now then, get some sleep, it's late, and the alarm's set to six o' clock in the morning." Brook scampered up the bunk bed ladder, and she hopped down on her bed. Rago did the same only on the bunk bed across from Brook's and on the bottom layer.

"Goodnight," Brook said.

"I'm not tired-" Dynamis tried to object, but Brook said a little louder this time:

"I said, GOODNIGHT!" Brook plugged her circuits up to the wall to recharge her computers, and she closed her eyes. Rago turned off the source of light, a bright lamp, and at this point, you could only see moonlight and anything it dusted upon.

Dynamis stubbornly refused to sleep and paced around the room. "You're gonna cave in eventually," Brook stated as she slipped into sleep. Rago already had, but Dynamis continued pacing.

At midnight, though, he couldn't keep he eyes open any longer, and he, too, gave into rest and fell to the floor. He let out a low snore. The clock dangling off the wall next to Brook ticked as they slept. It would ring at six in the morning, like Brook said, in six hours. It was tranquil for once, and thank the Will of the Heavens it was, because this would be the last calm night in a while.

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 **I hope you liked this chapter, and happy Fourth of July to those of you in the United States! Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC, but hopefully, it'll work. Thanks for reading, and please review, favorite, follow, etc., it would mean a lot to me. Bye~**


	5. Coffee Stains

**Hi! I'm back with another chapter, so I hope you enjoy! I'm sorry this chapter came out later than expected, I had some things to do on Saturday. Also, I published a Fourth of July special called "The Burger Fight." If you're interested, check it out.**

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The sun rose. Orange light cascaded into Brook and Rago's room, and Dynamis cracked open his eyes at the sound of the alarm. _Beep! Beep! Beep!_ Brook wasn't kidding when she said that she set the alarm for six in the morning, but Dynamis slept for what felt like forever. Still, he very much had a jaded look in his eyes. Dynamis found himself on the floor, and a blanket sprawled on his back.

He laid on his stomach, and his face pressed hard against the light brown carpet dotted with specks of dirt. He soon realized how messy the room was. Chinese takeout boxes littered the floor, they obviously polished the windows at least a few months ago, and Brook and Rago didn't even bother to make their beds. "Gross," Dynamis flicked up the blanket that loosely clung around his shoulders, and he spreed it on his bed. He smoothed out the creases, and he tucked in the sheet.

He fluffed out his pillow and set in on the bed. He did the same to the other beds, threw away the takeout boxes, and wiped down the windows. Nothing like a little morning cleaning to calm him down, he would say. Then, he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. The bathroom had a shower on the left wall, a sink on the right, and the sink rested on a table. The shower, sink, and table were all made of the same glossy, white stone, and the walls and floor comprised of white tiles.

He could smell the coffee bubbling outside, and his stomach growled a bit. He didn't have dinner last night, so his hunger was bound to come. Brook and Rago left leaving the door open. They must have been smart enough to figure out that he couldn't get anywhere unless they left the door open, and with that, he strolled out. His footsteps tapped with the hallway. He scurried around quite lost, and he panted and sprinted his way down the halls.

Dynamis knocked over agents, and they yelled at him to slow down. He shoved someone with coffee in their hands, and that person spilled coffee on his shoulder. The coffee singed a little, and the person he trampled over shouted at him, "Watch it!" Dynamis didn't even stop to apologize. He didn't notice at all. He just continued on running.

Clank went his feet on the floor, but he still didn't know where he was going. He spiraled and turned around twist after twist of the walls, but he still couldn't find the elevator. His hair fluttered behind him, and he took another turn left. Morning light continued pouring in. It hit Dynamis' arms and neck warming them, just like in Pluto's building. He encountered the smashed plant pots from yesterday finding that the janitor didn't discover the mess yet.

A piece of melted and cooled metal from Brook's pole splattered on the floor, and to Dynamis, it resembled a shinny pebble. Why didn't he remember what happened after he melted Brook's pole...? He scratched his head and circled around the mess. He kicked the burnt leaf of a plant, and it crumbled. He crouched down and picked up a shard of broken flower pot, and he examined the charred pieces. He saw a few hairs on the floor, his hairs, and pondered how they ended there.

He noticed a small rip in his shirt, and he saw a piece of fabric on the floor. Then, he peered down seeing a flake of rust on the ground. "So that's what happened," he backed a few meters away from the rust.

He recollected that Brook lead him to an elevator located around here somewhere. He turned to his right, and sure enough, he found the elevator. He pressed the glass buttons to the left of the elevator to go down, because that's where he hoped Brook and Rago would be, and he stepped in. He decided on riding to the second floor. Out of his experience, he found that people commonly used the second floor for the break room because it was close to where agents could exit the building for duty, but it still stayed out of the lobby's view, where they conducted most business with the general public.

The elevator gave out it's usual ding, and Dynamis traipsed out. He turned his head around cautiously, and he took a look around like an owl, his eyes wide and his stride silent. Blue reflected the early morning sun, and his eyes glinted an ocean mixed with warm, honey yellow. He kept his hands close to his bey belt for whatever reason, and he eyed a wall he just passed suspiciously.

Dynamis took a sniff of the air, and he could smell strong, brewing, black coffee. It smelled warm and like cocoa and with a hint of whipped cream. He could also pick up the scent of bacon, eggs, toast, and other items he couldn't identify. Although, he was convinced he detected some sausage. He turned left and found an automatic sliding glass door framed with silver metal.

The door glided open, and he set foot in a room about the size of a cafeteria. He saw a line of agents all dressed in black jumpsuits and black caps with WBBA written in blue letters on them. The huge crowd of agents either waited in a long line in the back for breakfast, sat down eating, or mingled by the coffee bar. There, at the coffee bar, he noticed Brook and Rago, and he saw that Brook and himself as the only ones not dressed in black suits and hats.

Brook wore her usual trench coat, mask, gloves, baggy jeans, and sneakers, and she drunk coffee while dunking a bagel in it. Brook turned to see and wave at Dynamis, signaling for him to come over. Dynamis slid through the crowd easily because of his small frame, and he took a turn to the wall on the left.

"Took you long enough to wake up," Brook bit into her coffee soaked bagel. The coffee settled in a porcelain cup and saucer. "The breakfast line will close soon, so I recommend you get some eggs or something."

"I'm not that hungry," Dynamis lied. He knew he would regret stealing only someone's unattended bread and butter from a table next to him, but he didn't want to mix with all the others. While working for Hades Inc., Dynamis would usually eat breakfast alone, the reason being that Hades Inc. didn't have all that many agents. Plus, the cafeteria never closed, and he didn't have a set breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The cafeteria looked more like a fine dining room with crystal chandeliers, which gave off a toasty, inviting light, walls brown like the coffee, and light wood-colored carpets that complemented the brown. Mauve with gold highlights curtains hung from several mammoth windows, and all the tables lay neatly organized around the room with pearl-white table cloths.

Each table had one narrow vase made of glass in the center, and the vases held one small, pink carnation. The tables also had hand-crafted wooden seats with three per table, but the agents had to get their own silverware and plates. Some agents pulled up chairs from other tables to seat their friends, and the room had the orderly chaos Dynamis liked.

Standing at the coffee bar, Dynamis saw ebony wood cabinets with the same material making up the bottom shelves. The counter of the bar had a marble surface that housed different types of coffee beans and coffee mixes, coffee machines, sugar, sweets, cream, milk, non-dairy creamers, pastries, butter, plastic cups, whipped cream, sprinkles, hot fudge and caramel, thin coffee straws, and napkins. The compartments of coffee and coffee beans each had little scoops to get each agent's desired coffee, as well.

For Brook, she mostly drunk black coffee with no sugars, sweeteners, or anything else in it. She didn't even use a straw and dipped a bagel in it. Odd combination, Dynamis thought, but he decided against asking her why. After what he observed so far, she didn't like people sticking their noses into her business.

"Well, you said six o' clock, and it's six," Dynamis buttered some of his bread. "And I must ask you, is there any tea?"

"No, there isn't any tea," Brook responded. "Thank a law suit we got involved in. Some moron's lawyer chucked tea at the jury three years ago. The judge ruled in part of his final verdict to not have tea in the building. We have coffee, if you couldn't tell, though."

"I hate coffee," Dynamis didn't sound pleased. He did have confusion about the lawsuit and even lifted an eyebrow to give a hint, but in the end, he walked away saying, "Now excuse me while I go sulk, and don't be surprised if I act like a zombie today." Dynamis walked off with bags under his eyes, and he balled up his fists. He had never gone a morning without green tea. Ever. It had been that way for the past two years after him pulling an all nighter to finish paperwork.

"Cranky," Rago sighed. He didn't like coffee, so he drunk flavored water, and he had some bacon hanging out of his mouth. Brook handed Rago a tomato and strolled off. Rago anime sweat-dropped at the tomato. No one understood half of Brook's behavior anyway... Rago followed Brook asking her why she gave him a tomato. She didn't answer, but instead, rolled her eyes signalling one of her famous yet often leading to a misunderstanding quotes.

"Duh," Brook spat out one of her favorite words. She promenaded off, and her coat rippled behind her. She adjusted her favorite fedora hat, too. Rago tried to follow, but she already disappeared out of the doors and away from the intense chatter.

Outside the cafeteria, Brook scrambled around to find Dynamis. She spotted Dynamis head toward the stairs, so that's where she would go. When, suddenly, she paused right in her tracks to find the janitor. She bit her tongue and dipped her bagel in coffee once more. She took a bite to prevent herself from biting her robotic fingers, which would spell disaster for her wires. She could chew up her wires, and that would take days to rearrange!

"Hey Brook, how'er your recent missions and projects going?" the janitor asked. His voice sounded high and squeaky but also cheery. He had a friendly smile under a brown mustache. Brown hair with grey streaks peeked out from under his WBBA hat, the one most agents wore. He was a middle-aged man with a round yet tall frame, and he wore overalls on top of a light blue t-shirt and faded blue jeans.

"Yeah, um, great," Brook toyed around with her shirt collar, and she gulped silently. "Yeah, yup, they're going good."

"Good, also, Brook, may I ask you something?" the janitor asked.

"Yeah... sure, no reason you can't," Brook shuttered in surprise that the janitor didn't pick up her uncontrolled ques that displayed nervousness.

"So, I saw a mess on the floor your room is on. I must say, the melted metal on the floor will take me an hour to clean up, and two to get that pesky bullet from the glass. Do you have any idea who did it, because I would like to talk to them about not using weapons in the building outside of the training rooms," he explained.

"Um... I have no idea..." Brook fibbed. She usually lied well, after all, agents working undercover had to, but she usually planned her lies in advance and didn't have a moral dilemma when telling them. "Listen, sir, I have to go and find someone, goodbye-"

The janitor put a hand on her shoulder, "Aw, come on, it's been a while, and it'd be nice if you weren't so stressed all the time, how about we both get a glass of milk, sit down, and talk?" His eyes shone with a twinkle.

"Really, I have to go. I'd love to talk and consume approximately twelve percent of my daily recommend calcium per one-hundred grams with you, but I really have to find this person," Brook pulled herself away from the janitor's grip. She didn't want to leave him, as he had such a calm, bubbly personality, but he would probably look at her in shock if he found out about the flowerpot incident from yesterday.

"Bye! We'll drink milk later," Brook bolted off toward the stairs. She hurried away so quickly that she didn't even think of a chemical formula or something for milk that sounded like gibberish to everyone else. Whatever, she had to get away from the janitor and find Dynamis. The janitor just stood there, and he watched Brook dart away. He sighed. When would Brook learn to stop and smell the roses, figuratively speaking, of course.

Brook kicked open the doorway to the stairs. The door consisted of metal and a tiny, bullet-proof glass window to look out of. She used her droid enhanced abilities to swiftly run up the steps, and she hopped up two steps at a time. This, she hoped, would increase her speed. Brook could hear the janitor interrogate Rago a few floors down, but she pushed that aside. The janitor talking to Rago would distract him from her, anyway.

Rago had no idea how the mess in the hallway got there because he wasn't there, so naturally, Brook could hear her partner stutter in confusion. "What, I don't know how the mess got in the hallway!... No! I'm not lying!" she could hear Rago say.

"Well, no need to put yourself in dismay," the janitor responded. Their voices sounded muffled and unclear through the door, but Brook could still hear them. She pressed on to see Dynamis walking up the stairs. His eyes had a lost look in them, but overall, he still continued forward.

"You don't know where you're going, do you?" Brook asked.

"Why should it matter to you?" Dynamis asked back. He voice echoed of the walls. The stairs spiraled along the walls in the enclosed area, and the humid, hot air of the stairs made him sweat a bit. He swept himself up, anyway, and he ventured on.

"I'm going to get in big trouble if you get yourself into mischief," Brook swerved in front of Dynamis. Her face formed into a scowl. Dynamis didn't know what went on behind her mask, but he wouldn't ask.

"So, I have a job to do," Dynamis put his hands on his hips.

"Yes, indeed you do. If you want to avoid jail time, follow me," Brook lead the way. "You could've used the elevator. It would've been easier."

"Well, why don't you-" Dynamis groused, but Brook aimed her launcher to get him to shut up. Dynamis grunted and stomped off behind her.

"You made your choice," Brook put away her launcher and bey. After ten minutes of climbing stairs, Brook opened a door identical to the one they used to enter. They stepped out of the stairwell, and they entered a hallway with a Plexiglas floor and walls. Dynamis looked down to see the floor below.

"Why Plexiglas?" Dynamis tapped the thick layer of transparent floor with his foot. He found a map bolted on the right glass wall of the level, and the same potted plans aligned the edges of the hall. Even the ceiling had a transparent sheet of Plexiglas where agents crouched down to watch them. Some readied their launchers or firearms to aim at Dynamis. "And why are they trying attack me?" Dynamis tilted his head up. He saw the fierce, furious eyes.

"The WBBA has been trying to get you arrested for the past several years," Brook shot up a look at the agents for them to get back to work. "Plus, the reason for the Plexiglas floor is because Ryo... um... preferred to, really, I dunno what goes on is Ryo's head. This floor is his main office. The one you saw yesterday is the one he uses for consultations."

"Oh, is that why?" Dynamis would've wrecked the floor with Jupiter if Brook didn't stand there breathing down his neck. Dynamis threw another glare at the remaining agents who dared stay behind on the floor above. Everyone averted their eyes from Dynamis and continued with their businesses. Dynamis pressed his hands close to his launcher and bey just in case. "Which is why Ryo's an idiot."

"Watch your mouth," Brook threatened to take out the metal pole that replaced the one from yesterday.

Dynamis cut in front of her to open the doors to Ryo's office. Dynamis didn't hold the door open for Brook, but she didn't care. They both stepped in front of Ryo who sat at his desk. His office had those same darn potted plants, and a metal desk stood in the middle of the room. Ryo sat in a rolling chair wearing his usual suit and tie, and he, at the moment, signed a pile of paperwork about a meter tall.

"Hi Blossom," Ryo grinned.

"I told you, I'd like to be called Brook!" Brook pointed to a small badge she wore on her vest. It was small yet shinny and looked important.

"Okay, although, instead of arguing over your name, you know why you're here, correct?" Ryo continued signing papers. He used a pink pen with a miniature sculpture of a light pink ballerina on it. Brook nor Dynamis ever found out why he used that pen, but Ryo claimed it worked better than all the other ones.

"Yes, you called me last night about this subject," Brook nodded. "Dynamis, Ryo wants us to travel to New York City, The United States. Hades Inc. has a headquarters running there. It's a small branch of Hades Inc., so it's less secure than the one in Washington D.C. or any Hades Inc. faculties here in Japan."

"I already know that, I work for them, you know," Dynamis rolled his eyes.

"I know you know that, and I've also done my research on you. You've been requested to go to New York for a series of meetings. Fish out important information there, and return it to us. Rago and I will accompany you," Brook retreated to one of two chairs next to the door. A glass table separated the two chairs, and a fake palm tree shaded the chairs and table.

"Why do you need me, then? Can't you send in one of your own agents undercover?" Dynamis inspected the metal desk for any rust before leaning on it.

"Ah, but you know something about the meetings, only registered agents that have been part of Hades Inc. for four years or longer can join in," Brook answered Dynamis' question.

"True, true," Dynamis played with his nails a bit.

Brook nodded. Ryo dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and they left.

"Pack your bags, we're leaving tomorrow," Brook strolled off. "Although, you might want to follow me. We have clothing ready for you, but pack any computers or items you might need for hacking, that meeting in New York, etc."

"As long as that clothing's not those dreadful uniforms, I'm fine," Dynamis and Brook headed off for a day of meetings, agents threatening Dynamis, and Dynamis nearly blowing apart the training room because of his flames.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'm sorry if this is all seeming like filler. It'll go into the action part, I promise. Brook(Blossom), Dynamis, and Rago, like I said, are going to New York, which will result in total chaos! Don't expect their travel to go smoothly as soon as they set foot in New York. Please read, review, favorite, follow, etc. if you like the story, and I'm sorry this update took a little longer than I planned.**


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